Chapter 7: The Call That Changed the Timeline
Rebecca answered on the second ring.
I watched her face.
"Yes, this is Rebecca Hartley." A pause.
"Yes, he's — actually, Daniel is here with me now." She looked at me.
"Should I put you on speaker?"
Whatever the doctor said, she nodded and set the phone on the table between us.
"Mr.
Calloway." The doctor's voice was measured, careful.
"I'm glad you're both there.
I've been reviewing Sophie's latest scans alongside the team in Boston.
The clinical trial — the one we discussed last week, Rebecca — there's been a development."
"What kind of development?" Rebecca asked.
"A slot has opened up.
A family withdrew this morning.
The trial coordinator reached out to me directly because Sophie's profile is a strong match.
But the window is short.
They need a decision by Monday."
Rebecca's hand went to her mouth.
"The cost structure hasn't changed," the doctor continued.
"The first phase remains forty thousand.
But I want you both to understand — this trial has shown significant response rates in cases like Sophie's.
This is not a long shot.
This is a real opportunity."
"We'll take it," I said.
Rebecca looked at me sharply.
"Mr.
Calloway, the financial commitment—"
"I understand the commitment.
We'll take the slot.
What do you need from us by Monday?"
A brief pause on the line.
"I'll send the paperwork tonight.
Rebecca, I'll need your signature and Sophie's medical release.
Mr.
Calloway, the coordinator will reach out directly regarding the financial agreement."
"That's fine."
"I'll be in touch." The call ended.
Rebecca stared at the phone on the table.
"Daniel.
Forty thousand dollars."
"I know."
"You can't just—"
"Rebecca." I waited until she stopped.
"Sophie asked me to stay.
That's what staying looks like."
She pressed her fingers to her eyes.
Her shoulders shook once, then steadied.
"I don't know how to accept this," she said.
"You don't have to know how.
You just have to sign the paperwork."
She laughed — a short, broken sound — and pressed her hand to her mouth again.
We sat there for a moment in the quiet kitchen.
Then I said: "We need to talk about Gary."
The laughter stopped.
"Not tonight—"
"Not the full conversation.
Just this." I leaned forward.
"He told me he has a witness.
Someone who'll claim you told them Sophie was his.
He said he's planning to refile the paternity claim."
Rebecca's face hardened.
"He's lying about the witness."
"I believe you.
But a lie filed in court is still a filing.
It still costs time and money and stress that Sophie does not need right now." I paused.
"Carol — my legal advisor — she thinks we should get ahead of it.
File the harassment documentation now, before he moves."
"If I file, he'll escalate."
"He's already escalating.
The difference is that right now, we have the timeline on our side.
Two messages to me, two prior complaints from you.
That's a pattern.
Carol says a judge will see it."
Rebecca was quiet for a long moment.
"What does filing look like?"
"It means he gets formally notified that any further contact or legal action will be met with a counter-filing.
It doesn't guarantee he stops.
But it raises the cost for him significantly."
She looked at the table.
At the doctor's report still sitting there.
At the phone.
"Okay," she said.
"Talk to Carol."
I nodded.
I picked up my phone to text Carol and saw, at the top of my notifications, a new message from the unknown number.
Not words this time.
A photograph.
Sophie.
Getting into my car outside the foundation two weeks ago.
Taken from a distance, slightly blurred, but unmistakably her.
May you like
He had been watching us.
For weeks.
